


You Look So Wonderful in that Dress

by QuickedWeen



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Actor Harry, Actor Louis, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Renaissance, Carriage travel, Company Manager Niall, English Countryside, Except the English kind, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Harry Styles in a Dress, Harry in Makeup, Light Angst, Living out of carriages, M/M, Nomadic Camp Life, Playwright Ed, Smut, Theatre, Theatre Troupe, he plays the female parts, stage makeup, that's a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-22 18:41:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11973345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickedWeen/pseuds/QuickedWeen
Summary: Best friends Louis and Harry are the stars of an English Renaissance theatre troupe that travels the countryside performing history and morality plays. Louis plays all of the male lead roles, and opposite him, Harry plays all of the female lead roles. They've been secretly in love with each other for as long as they've been friends, and the manager of their company, Niall, has finally decided to do something about it.





	You Look So Wonderful in that Dress

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thepriestthinksitsthedevil (stubliminalmessaging)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stubliminalmessaging/gifts).



> Hello! 
> 
> The original prompt was for Shakespearean actors, but I adjusted it a little bit and made them Shakespearean adjacent.
> 
> Historical note: Traveling theatre troupes were very real and very popular because for awhile theatre was banned within the city of London. They were, however, structured very differently than I have shown them here. So, please forgive me. Also I briefly mention that costumers were the greatest asset that most of these troupes had and that is entirely accurate! I just really liked that fact.  
> If you have any questions about English renaissance theater PLEASE leave a comment below or come talk to me when fics are revealed because I will love you forever. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

_**Prologue** _

Niall Horan, manager of the Lumina Players Theatre Troupe extraordinaire, stared down at the bound pages in front of him. The ink bleeding into the parchment was the answer to all of his problems.

The two main actors of the troupe were going to be the death of him one day if he didn’t focus their energy on something. Namely, each other.

Here they were traipsing all over this blasted pile of rock that some liked to call Great Britain, spending all of their time together, but they had reached a point of comfort. Routine. Neither one willing to break the silence and acknowledge their feelings for the other a full year into their friendship.

Normally, this would not be an issue, but both of them had taken to confiding in Niall. Jabbering away at him the moment one of them saw he was unoccupied. Except, Niall was never unoccupied. He managed a troupe of five and twenty actors and crew members, caravaning around the countryside, making sure everyone had food enough to eat. He did not have any passing thoughts to spare on the tragic unrequited love of his friends. Especially because the love definitely _was_ requited.

Harry was a distant cousin of Niall's that he brought on to fill all of their lead female roles. His hair was long and curly enough that he hardly ever had to wear a wig unless the character was fair-headed, and while his normal speaking voice was quite deep and slow, his falsetto speaking voice was strong and feminine enough that he was convincing. When his skin was lightened with powder, his cheeks were rouged, and his eyes were darkened with kohl, he was entrancing. Even Niall could admit that.

The very first day Harry arrived at the camp, they were stationed somewhere near Manchester at the time, he brought with him a much needed horse and extra supplies from his family farm back home. He presented a cutting figure as he rode up to to camp for the first time. Astride a horse, it was easy to see his charismatic air in the way he carried himself.

The illusion was shattered as soon as he stumbled dismounting from the saddle, and then again when he blushed and stuttered his way through his formal introduction to the troupe. Many of the other actors were concerned, unconvinced that this man would be the one to save them after the other actor who filled their female roles had run off in the middle of the night with one of the carpenters who built their sets.

One actor who had not been concerned on that first day was Louis. Louis was Niall’s saving grace; he drew people in from miles around. He had a regality when he spoke that the director of their plays, Liam, had been attempting to exploit as much as he could. The blocked out countless historical, mythological, and morality plays that they performed in repertory, allowing Louis to take on the roles of kings and heroes and gods. He made these lofty men of legend feel real and relatable in ways that no actor ever had before. That had been their strategy for selling tickets for months now.

On Harry's first day, Louis had sidled up to Niall as he was helping the cook, Perrie, count out the portions of food and ale for supper.

“Niall, who is the new boy?”

 _Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five_. “He’s a cousin of my cousin or summat.” _Twenty-six, twenty-sev--_

“How long will he be staying?” Louis interrupted his counting again. Niall kept his hand on the stack of empty wooden bowls so he didn’t lose his place.

“Hopefully permanently, if you think you can work together well enough. You know Liam, he wants you to be happy. I love Harry, and he’s family, but if there is no believable relationship between the two of you, we’ll send him back home.”

Niall finally looked up from his counting, only to see that Louis had been talking to him, but was not paying a whit of attention to him. His body was angled out towards the main part of camp. Specifically, watching as the wardrobe mistress, a slip of a girl named Jade, led Harry around to each covered carriage, introducing him to the troupe.

“I do not think that will be necessary,” Louis replied, softly enough that Niall almost missed it.

 

***

 

“Liam!” Louis yelled across the camp. He really did not feel as though it was necessary for him to go chase Liam down. Liam should come to him.

“What?!” Liam yelled back.

“Will the two of you pipe down!” Louis’ mother Jay popped her head out of the back of one of the carriages and shot a stern look at both of them. “The babies are asleep, and if they awaken before their afternoon rest is over so help me God I will tie the two of you to the front of the lead.”

Louis’ whole body clenched, but especially his jaw. He glanced over at Liam who looked equally cowed.

“Sorry, mum,” he whispered.

Her smile broke across her face and she instantly returned to the angelic woman he knew she was. “That’s alright my darling.” And she was gone again.

“Your mother is scary,” Liam whispered as he drew closer to Louis.

“Well, raising seven children will do that to you.”

Louis had joined the troupe on his eighteenth birthday when they were traveling through Doncaster for the annual Yuletide festival. One of their actors had taken horribly ill, and Louis was the only local who could conceivably pull off playing the small part of a young boy. He was taught a handful of lines and blocking throughout the day, and the next thing he knew he was sharing a carriage with two other boys his age and waving goodbye to his mother and younger sisters.

Not long after that, his mother’s husband left with no intention of returning, and she decided she did not appreciate having her eldest son so far away from her. Instead of forcing him to stop, she recognised that there was better living for them on the road, and she became the official mother of the troupe. Charmed by her fierce independence and loving spirit, their horsemaster and blacksmith, Daniel, had proposed to her within a year, and lo and behold, Louis now had two more younger siblings. 

She provided all of the childcare for the families that travelled, even though that mostly just meant looking after her own children, and made sure everyone was comfortable. It was handy, also, to have so many children available for parts. Louis loved that Niall could never decide if having them around was a good thing or a bad thing.

He shook his head fondly, and went back to the business at hand.

“Liam.”

“Yes, Louis,” Liam sighed as though he held the weight of the world on his shoulders and Louis made up the majority share of the burden.

“When are you going to find us something more romantic to play. I am sick to death of these kings. They talk too much.”

Liam rolled his eyes and turned to walk away from Louis. “I really am incredibly sorry, Louis, that these roles are requiring you to do your job and earn your keep. Truly, I am.” He did not sound sorry.

“Liam,” Louis drew out the word, chasing after him. “Please, audiences are sick of them as well. We need something fresh, something exciting. I know you’re going to introduce the new play at tonight’s meeting. Would you just consider a romance?”

Liam paused and stared at him for a moment. “No. Absolutely not.”

 

An hour later the entire troupe of actors and crew were sitting around the fire while Liam took care of old business. Harry turned and looked up at Louis from where he was sitting on the ground, leaning against Louis' leg, munching on his own dinner, the bowl balanced on his lap.

“What do you think it’s going to be? _The Aeneid_? Been awhile since we’ve gone Greek, innit?” Louis let the whisper of Harry’s deep, natural speaking voice wash over him, sending a shiver down his spine.

“I don’t know. Liam was pretty tight-lipped about it, only said it wouldn’t be romantic.” Louis rolled his eyes purely for Harry’s enjoyment, and Harry hid a giggle behind his hand, scoffing around the bite of venison in his mouth.

Liam’s loud voice cut through their private moment; “And if our main actors could be bothered to pay attention, I would be happy to announce the next production we are to have in our arsenal.”

Louis’ gaze snapped up to where his friend and the rest of the troupe were all watching him and Harry interact. Blast. Out of the corner of his eye he watched as a blush bloomed across Harry’s cheekbones. Maybe a slight moment of embarrassment was worth it for how pretty Harry looked in the firelight.

“Our new play is called _The Tenerife Sea_ about a pair of lovers that are hiding their passion and dedication to each other from their families,” he looked pointedly at Harry and Louis.

Louis felt his cheeks get hot and avoided making eye contact with Harry. How could Liam be so blatant about what he was implying? Enough people in the troupe certainly knew that he was hiding his own feelings for Harry, he did not need it advertised.

“The play is new, written by a man named Edward Sheerhan, and he will be joining us in a few days, so let us please make him feel at least moderately welcome.” Liam heaved a weary sigh and dismissed everyone.

The whispers of gossip began to spread through the entire collective immediately.

Ignoring all of it, Louis turned to Harry hopefully blocking him from the rest of the troupe with his body. If he tried hard enough maybe he could learn some witchcraft and hex all of them to make them disappear. Then it would just be him and Harry, alone in the world, with no one to bother them. _Bliss_.

“Well, it seems as though Liam finally took my advice,” Louis pronounced quietly, his words just meant for Harry’s ears. He reached down and took Harry's hand to pull him to his feet.

“Yes, yes he did.” Harry answered. He looked a tad pale, eye widened, with the embers of the fire reflected in his blown out pupils.

“Harry, are you ill?” Louis was concerned with his pallid complexion, and raised his hand to feel his forehead. If Harry was even the slightest bit feverish it could spread through the troupe quickly.

Harry’s eyelids fluttered closed at the touch of Louis’ hand and he swallowed deeply.

“No, no. Lou. I am perfectly healthy.”

Louis eyed him sceptically, but did not press the issue. “If you insist.” He put his arm around Harry’s waist just in case, and felt Harry bring his arm up to casually drape across his shoulders. They naturally fell into the same configuration every time they walked as such, and had since the beginning of their friendship.

The heat from Harry’s body seeped into his side as they meandered towards their separate carriages to retire for the night. The linen of Harry’s loose tunic was scratchy under the pads of Louis’ fingers as he rolled the roughened seam between his thumb and forefinger.

Rehearsals tomorrow would be interesting.

 

***

 

The affable ginger man observing their rehearsal was setting Harry’s teeth on edge. He spared another glance at the man where he was sitting, watching them.

The man somehow managed to look friendly and critical at the same time. It was a mystery.

He probably looked critical because this, whatever _this_ was, was not working. Nothing about the past week of rehearsals had been successful. Louis had been as stiff as a board, and they had barely managed to make it through the first three acts of the play when normally they would have been finished blocking it out by now.

For the first time in the two years Harry had been with the troupe Louis looked nervous, and Harry was not sure why. Louis was the one who had begged Liam to program a romance in the first place, but was that what was bothering him?

Harry was nervous himself. He always felt some manner of trepidation before performances, no matter how many he did, but his nerves had been exacerbated by the fourth act of this particular play. When he and Louis had to kiss and caress each other. A lot. They had not yet reached that act in their regular rehearsals.

He sucked a deep breath in through his teeth as Louis went over a note with Liam on the edge of their temporary rehearsal space.

Camp bustled around them as Jade stitched away at Harry’s new frock, and Louis’ mother Johannah chased after her two youngest children who had somehow gotten into the paints used for the set decoration. Niall was occupied waiting for Liam and Louis to finish speaking, and thankfully had not spotted the miniature terrors yet.

Liam called Harry over to their small conference.

“This is not working,” he said bluntly. Cutting right to the quick then, were they?

“Liam!” Louis was immediately on the defensive, “This is not Harry’s fault, it is entirely my own problem. He has nothing to do with it. I’ll not have you attacking him like this,”

Harry felt himself flush at the outright display of protectiveness. It was unwarranted, but still very flattering.

“Calm down, you idiot,” Liam cut in with all possible affection, “It is both your faults, and you are both incredibly talented, so you both know that.” He waited for a moment while he let his words sink in; “Niall has very helpfully hitched up Louis’ carriage.”

Harry gasped as Louis took up his metaphorical sword again, “Are you getting rid of us? How could you?” Louis sounded hurt, and Harry immediately stepped to his side and linked their pinkies together to provide comfort. He was not sure if it was for Louis’ benefit or his own, but it helped all the same.

Liam simply rolled his eyes at Louis again. “We are not sending you off. Not permanently, at least. There is a clearing some distance out of town. Away from camp, so you’ll have some privacy. I need the two of you to figure out why your performances are stiff and unnatural where they never have been before. Stay as long as you need to, well, through tomorrow morning at the latest, and rehearse together before you rejoin us tomorrow. I’ll work with everyone else in the meantime.”

Louis turned towards Harry, blocking Liam and Niall out, making sure Harry knew his attention was solely on him, the way it always was. What good deeds had Harry done in this life or any before to deserve Louis’ protectiveness?

“Does this suit you, Harry? Taking some private time to rehearse just the two of us?” Louis looked at him expectantly but gave nothing away in his own expression.

Harry nodded. He wasn’t sure how taking time to themselves would solve their performance issues, but he was more than willing enough to try something new. They could not go on stage in front of an audience in their current state.

As soon as he agreed, Louis agreed, and time seemed to speed up.

Niall had someone - Harry suspected Louis' mother and younger sisters - secretly pack Louis’ carriage up with supplies while they had been rehearsing. What would Niall have done if they had said no?

For all his usual bravado, Louis was unnaturally quiet and reserved as the carriage was hitched up. He climbed up onto his seat where he usually steered, alone, and adjusted himself quickly to make room for Harry. Of the two of them Louis was more used to having company while he drove, as often one of his siblings would join him to avoid sitting in the back of his family’s much more crowded vehicle.

They hadn’t made it more than a league outside of town and away from camp before Louis finally broke.

“I am so sorry, Harry.” His normally bright and animated best friend looked downtrodden.

“Sorry? Lou, what do you have to be sorry for?”

“I cannot believe I have so thoroughly botched this for us. Now everyone is going to hate my performance, and they won’t pay for entrance, and then we won’t have any money, and the _you_ will hate me--”

“Stop! Louis, please!” Harry noticed Louis’ grip on the reins had gotten tighter and the horse was beginning to feel the additional tension.

Harry laid his hand across Louis’ where he held the leather straps, hoping that would help him relax. “That is not the case. Do not be ridiculous. As of this moment we are going to solve this problem. We will rehearse, it will be perfect, and no one will hate it. Everyone loves us, loves _you_ , and loves star-crossed lovers.

"Liam did an admirable job of choosing a story that would be profitable, even though it was written by someone unknown. We will be sold out for months in advance, I promise you that. And I,” he paused as he thought about what he could say without giving away the true nature of his feelings, “I could never hate you. Not in a million years.”

He leaned his head to rest on Louis’ shoulder and felt some of the tension begin to leave his friend’s body.

“You’re right. I am sorry, though. Also for being a twat.”

“Lou! Don’t be vulgar,” Harry elbowed him in the stomach with the intention of making him smile again. It worked, and Harry was quite proud of himself for lifting Louis’ mood. “You’re not a twat. You’re an actor. We tend to be insecure, you know.”

Louis laughed at him once again, bright and beautiful, and it took everything that Harry had not to lean over and kiss him.

They remained quiet for the rest of the drive to the clearing Niall had given them directions to. Once they had secured the carriage and tied the horse’s lead to one of the trees along the outer edge of the clearing, Louis went about setting up their own makeshift camp.

Harry reached into the sack of food Niall had packed for them and began to clean and prepare everything for their mid-day meal. There was a trunk with pre-made biscuits and hard tack, that Louis immediately turned his nose up at. Harry rolled his eyes and giggled at his antics.

“I promise not to tell Perrie how much you hate her food,” he chastised, as he continued to hold up options of a bag of vegetables and a pot of leftover stew from the night before.

“It’s not that I hate the food, darling. It’s that I am sick of having the same thing day after day, week after week.” Harry flushed at Louis calling him darling, it always got to him, but what Louis had said, coupled with his rather lackluster week of rehearsals had Harry thinking.

“Lou, will you come sit with me for a moment?” He patted the space next to him on the rough wool of the blanket that he had laid out near their small fire.

Louis went quiet again, presumably sensing what Harry wanted to talk about. Harry brought his thumb and forefinger up to tug on his lower lip as his eyes tracked Louis’ movement from the back of the carriage, until he was completely prone lying down next to him.

He had no choice, he had to dive right in; “What has gotten into you, Lou?”

Immediately, Louis threw one of his arms across his face, blocking his eyes with his forearm. “I know, I know.”

“I have not even asked about anything specific yet,” Harry said, nudging Louis with his knee.

Louis reached his hand out and tugged on the knee that had just touched him. “Lie down with me, Harry, it will be easier.”

“God, Lou, so dramatic,” Harry teased, not really caring. When he had laid himself out, mirroring Louis’ position on the blanket, he adjusted his body onto his side so that he was facing Louis while Louis was staring up at the clouds.

“It’s just more comfortable this way, and you know that.”

Harry watched his best friend silently, waiting for Louis to begin speaking. A minute passed. And another. Finally, he could stand it no longer.

“Are you sick of all of this, Lou? Is that it? Are you sick of this life?” He could hear the vulnerability in his own voice and he hated it, but the reality was, he would be lost without Louis. He owed his career to Louis. If he had to stop, if he had to start playing opposite someone new, he was not sure how much longer he, or the troupe, would survive. Louis was the heartbeat of the troupe, the life blood of their livelihood.

Harry held his breath as Louis contemplated his answer. It could not have been more than a moment before he spoke, but Harry had died a thousand deaths in that time. He really needed to speak to Liam about adding some comedies into their line up to offset the dramatics.

“I’m not sick of this life, per se…” he trailed off and Harry was left feeling even more confused. The sun came out from behind the clouds and doused them in light. Louis blinked his eyes a few times before turning to his side as well so he and Harry were facing each other. “I am sick of pretending, though.”

Harry’s heart sank. “Lou, you’re an actor,” he croaked out. Tears began to form in the corners of his eyes. Louis’ hand immediately shot out to cup his jaw, wiping the few drops that had fallen away with the pad of his thumb.

“No, no, Harry. Not that. I promise.” Harry’s face heated underneath where he could feel Louis’ palm resting, where Louis was definitely not pulling away. “Harry, do you know why rehearsing this play has been so difficult for me this week?”

“No,” Harry replied, barely above a whisper.

“Because it’s shown me what I cannot have. I was so ready for a romance but had not considered the consequences. The characters love each other endlessly. It serves only as a reminder of everything I cannot dream of having.” His voice sounded so lost in that moment. Harry lifted his hand to grip his wrist. To provide comfort.

“Don’t be silly, Lou. You can have anyone. Who knows, you may meet a girl in the very next village we play.”

Louis laughed, but there was a hysterical edge to it Harry had never heard before. “The woman in the next village will never be enough for me,” he replied.

“What do you mean, Lou?”

“Are you the woman in the very next village we play?” He asked, all traces of mirth gone.

“What?” Harry’s heart began to race. Was Louis saying what he thought he was saying? What he hoped?

“If it’s not you, she will never be enough for me.” Their faces had drifted closer and closer together on the blanket and Harry could feel Louis’ damp breath fan across his cheek.

He felt immobilized by the sheer possibility of what was about to happen. “What?” He repeated.

Louis nudged their noses together, the linen on his tunic making a scratching sound as he moved impossibly nearer to Harry.

“Can I, please?” Louis asked, his intentions clear.

“Yes,” Harry whispered, before his eyes squeezed shut and he gave himself over to the sensation of Louis brushing their lips together for the first time.

The tender touch was fleeting, and they both immediately pulled back, but only far enough to look each other in the eye, sharing in the magnitude of the moment, before the need to continue overcame them.

Leaning back into the warmth of Louis’ mouth, Harry decided that Louis had taken the leap of faith without any direction from him, so he took it upon himself to nudge the seam of Louis’ lips open enough that he could deepen their kiss.

Sparks ignited when the kiss became more intimate, and their positions went from tense with anticipation, to chaotic with desperate need. Louis turned over onto his back, dragging Harry with him, so that Harry’s body covered his own. Hands now free, he began to touch Harry everywhere he could reach.

It was overwhelming to not have as much of his best friend as he craved one moment, and have more than enough of him the next. Then again, now that he had tasted Louis, he didn’t think he would ever have enough.

After their initial rush to try and drink their fill of each other, their frenzy gave way to a slow, lazy afternoon in the sun alternating between languorous kisses and intimate conversations. They spoke about their friendship, what they meant to each other, and how they would behave when they got back to camp.

There had been but one tense moment in an afternoon of relief at being able be fully open with each other for the first time. Because, as much as they loved the life of a traveling actor, camp was a difficult environment to foster any form of privacy. There were constantly people. Everywhere. They would have to continue hiding.

They were in agreement, though, that it was to keep the change in their relationship private until they themselves adjusted to it. It was something special, just for them. Keeping the secret together would make hiding it from their troupe much easier.

Eventually they decided that they did have to do what they had come to the clearing for in the first place; rehearse. The show was opening whether they were ready or not.

Louis was nervous that he still would not be able to portray the lovers the way he wanted to, but all of that went away as soon as they began reciting their lines.

The whole play had taken on new meaning; lovers separated by the sea, unable to see each other for long expanses of time, and yet they remained devoted to each other.

The emotionally charged dialogue danced off their tongues with a finesse that they had not possessed before. Especially when Harry continued trying to kiss Louis every time he said something even remotely romantic or devotional. It was a shame he would not be able to do the same when they performed it in front of everyone else.

As darkness fell they crawled into Louis’ bedroll, not even bothering to undo Harry’s from where Niall had fastened it. Harry fought exhaustion for as long as he could, intent on basking in his ability to wrap his arms tightly around Louis as he slept and never let go.

 

Dawn came more quickly than it ever had before, and Harry grumbled and pouted about their need to return to camp. Hitching up the carriage took an hour longer than unpacking had as he kept drawing Louis back into the warm cocoon of their cramped bedroll, and generally did his best to hinder the departure process.

He could not help the fact that Louis looked so in command and capable when he was packing up the carriage. His forearms flexed as he lifted their provisions into the back next to where Harry was still lazing about.

Harry needed to strongly consider the possibility that he was addicted to Louis, but now that he was allowed to touch, he was having trouble resisting.

Bestowing multiple kisses on Louis in congratulations for getting them ready to go, Harry finally admitted that they needed to leave their little haven.

The return drive to camp was much more comfortable than the one to the clearing had been. Even though it could not have lasted more than half an hour each way, on the return journey Louis held the reins with one hand instead of two as his free hand rested possessively on Harry’s thigh.

Testing the limits of his newfound freedom with Harry’s body, Louis began to trace slow circles on Harry’s leg. Each rotation brought his hand closer and closer to Harry’s inner thigh, and Harry was going mad with anticipation.

“Lou,” he hissed out as they passed a family on the road coming back from the market in town.

“What is it, my love?” Louis asked innocently.

“You’re teasing,” he replied, breath hitching at the end as Louis’ pinky finger got dangerously close to his most sensitive skin. He was dangerously stiff in his breeches and reached down to grab hold of Louis’ wrist. Not yet sure if he wanted to push him away or draw him closer, Harry let out a gasp when he saw the sign indicating where their troupe was camped.

Louis was going to leave him hard and desperate as they pulled into camp. A camp made up of all of their friends and family. Harry was blushing profusely as Louis brought his hand back to hold the reins properly, looking for all the world like he had not just riled Harry up enough to leave him hard and wanting.

“I’m sorry, what was that love?” Louis replied, smirk coloring his tone.

“I will get you for this,” Harry vowed as he watched Niall wave Louis’ carriage back into place amongst the rest of the caravan. Louis only cackled.

Louis’ face grew more serious as he drew back the reins and the horse came to a halt, and he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Sneak over to my carriage tonight. Please. I cannot go another night without you.”

“Of course,” Harry replied quickly as Niall and Liam approached their bench.

“You have returned!” Liam exclaimed.

Louis scoffed at his surprised tone. “Obviously, Liam. Did you think we were going to run off?” Harry pinched his thigh as discreetly as he could. Louis was a little too close to the truth, there. Harry bit his lip in an attempt to hide what was surely a very dopey grin.

“Well, no. I suppose not,” Liam looked contemplative for a moment before shaking off his confusion and pressing on, “How did it go then? Are my main actors back in commission?”

“Yes, Liam, we’re fine,” Harry piped up as Louis began to crow loudly about the ‘aspersions cast upon his professionalism.’

Niall offered to unpack their things and return Harry’s possessions to his own carriage. Harry thanked him distractedly as he watched Louis’ thighs flex while he climbed down from the driver’s seat. He needed to remain seated for a few more moments as he lowered his heart rate and certain parts of his anatomy calmed down.

“Do you have anything to say to me, Harry?” Niall asked cryptically, studying Harry carefully. Had Harry forgotten something? He was sure he had said thank you.

“Um, no? Thank you? I said that already, did I not?”

Niall’s face changed instantly, his smile beaming where before it had been merely welcoming, “No, you did. That’s perfectly alright. I’ll just take this,” he finished, holding up Harry’s unused bedroll.

Niall was acting quite strange lately.

 

***

 

The problem with attempting to sneak around in a bid to see each other privately, was that it was impossible. Louis strongly believed that he and Harry had infinitely more private time when they had not so desperately sought it out.

During the day having a private conversation was nigh on impossible. Between troupe business, their friends, Louis’ siblings, rehearsals, fittings, and actual performances, they barely had any time to breathe.

Louis needed to get his hands on Harry. He was craving him. They had barely had a chance to explore each other in their clearing, and he was kicking himself for not taking advantage of the opportunity. But, if he reasoned with himself - which he so hated doing - he had not wanted to pressure Harry into doing something he was not ready for, especially then because what they had was so new and fragile.

Now, it was still new, but the need to be together was growing more and more frantic with each passing day. Additionally, even though their family and troupe would be infinitely happy for them, they had decided to hide, which had added touch of forbiddenness that made them all the more heated.

Louis continued to tease Harry as much as he could. There was something about the way that even the slightest touch made his cheeks flush. His green eyes would get a bit glassy, and he began biting his lower lip a lot. It drove Louis mad. He had forgotten Harry’s threat to return the favor some day, so he had let complacency set in. That was his first mistake.

They had performances all week of their regular history and morality plays, but they also had finally reached their last dress rehearsal of _The Tenerife Sea_ before it would be added to their repertoire.

Harry was quite literally dolled up in full costume when it started. For the first two acts of the play he wore a beautiful green silk frock. He also wore a headpiece with a veil that masked all but his eyes. In the play it was lowered after the first act, but Harry loved to play with it absentmindedly while he was waiting in the wings.  Their costumes were always the troupe’s most valuable assets no matter what else they were carrying with them, and Jade had spared no expense on this particular ensemble. Louis had no idea how she had managed to exactly match the color of Harry’s eyes, but she had done an admirable job.

During this particular rehearsal, they were both waiting on opposite sides of their temporarily constructed stage. Harry was hidden from view, but Louis was not. The heroine’s maid was injecting comedic wit into the scene line by line when Harry caught Louis’ attention.

Louis watched as Harry took the chiffon from the lowered veil, and very carefully began to drag it up and down his silk covered arms. He then made a circle with his thumb and forefinger and began to rhythmically pull the fabric through his hand and release. Paired with his filthy smirk, the message was clear.

Louis began to heat up under his formal high collar, and reached a hooked finger under the stiff fabric to get a breeze on the back of his neck. All he could see in his mind's eye was Harry on his knees in front of him teasing his cock that way. And he was sure Harry knew exactly what he was doing.

The teasing escalated from there. Harry was relentless. When they were on stage in the middle of a scene, he made sure to brush his fingers across the front hem of Louis’ doublet. Or, in the dance scene he purposefully got a handful of Louis’ arse.

He made sure to keep Louis at least semi erect in his breeches the entire time the were on stage for the final four acts of the play. Louis could only pray that no one had noticed, and hoped even more fervently that his mother and siblings were otherwise occupied. They got bored easily during rehearsals, thank heaven.

His mind was a running fantasy of everything he had wanted to do to Harry’s body since that fateful day. He was not sure how much longer he could hold off.

They were on stage for the final scene, their wedding, and as soon as they were close enough to each other, sharing an exaggerated kiss, they pulled back and Louis whispered as quietly as he could, “The second you are done, meet me in my carriage.” He hoped his tightened grip on Harry’s hands accurately portrayed just how desperate he was.

Harry must have been expecting it because he looked at Louis from under lowered eyelashes and flashed him a smirk. Louis groaned, but quickly covered it with a cough and sent a nod to Liam in apology when the director sent him a sharp glance.

After they finished there was a brief smattering of applause from the various troupe members scattered about. The sun was still high in the sky, so he estimated they had about three hours before their audience for the evening began to arrive.

Liam called him over as soon as they were done and began to offer scores of notes on his performace during rehearsal. He had expected as much, and listened attentively in order to work through them as quickly as possible, until, out of the corner of his eye he saw Harry slink off in the direction of their carriages, still clad in his silk frock.

Louis cleared his throat. “Say, Liam, do you mind if we go over these… later?”

“Why, do you have some pressing business elsewhere?” Liam asked sardonically.

“Yes. As a matter of fact, I do.” With that, Louis turned on his heel and raced off as inconspicuously as possible towards where Harry was waiting.

The carriage was not ideal, as there was very little save a canvas cloth to shield them from the outside world, but at this time of day he was hopeful that none of the other troupe members would be near their private quarters.

His heartbeat pounded in his ears as he separated the cloth flaps and lifted himself into the back of his carriage. There, spread out over Louis’ bedroll, the same way he had been the morning they left the clearing, was the only person Louis would ever need in this life.

Harry had already begun to work himself into a frenzy, the teasing must have affected him just as much as it had affected Louis. The delicate green silk of his frock, mixed with the thin cotton of his petticoat, was hitched up around his thighs just barely hiding his cock from view. Louis knew he usually wore some form of pantaloon underneath his dresses, but there was no sun-bleached linen in sight, only smooth pale skin.

He was not sure how long he stood there watching him, but soon Harry let out the faintest of whimpers, high and tight from the back of his throat. Immediately Louis dropped to his knees, and as the thunk of the wood on the floor echoed around him, he was reminded of just how quiet they needed to be.

Covering Harry’s lips with his own he brought his hand up to dislodge the headpiece and tangle in Harry’s long, luxurious chestnut curls. His hair had grown longer over the years, and was now down to the middle of his back. One of Louis’ favorite things to do was help him detangle and plait his curls every night after he had snuck into Louis’ carriage as they were preparing themselves to retire. But that was much tamer than what he currently had in mind.

“Darling, my love, you have to be quiet. We cannot let anyone else hear you. What would they think?” Louis knew Harry almost as well as he knew himself. It really should not have been all that surprising when his words made Harry arch his back and moan deeper and louder into his mouth than ever before.

Louis did his best to swallow and tamp down Harry’s noises, but to no avail.

“Lou,” Harry moaned again, “Please touch me.”

Louis untangled his free hand from Harry’s curls and reached down to touch his hip. Harry’s hips were incredibly sensitive, and every time they had been able to rush their way through bringing each other off with deft hands or, blissfully, one night where Harry had wrapped his mouth around Louis’ cock, Louis always started by touching Harry’s hips.

This time though, when he reached down, his palm was not met with rough linen, or even Harry’s smooth skin. This time, he felt the cool, soft silk of Harry’s frock. He dug his hand in to grab more of the material, and felt himself shiver.

Because the carriage was still covered, only a modicum of sunshine poked through, but when he pulled off of Harry’s mouth, he able to still see his unwashed face. Kohl in his eyelashes matched his wide blown out pupils, making the whites of his eyes brighter in comparison. The rouge paint on his mouth had spread a little onto his cheek, marking the path Louis’ own lips had taken. Something dark and possessive twisted in his gut at the thought of Harry being marked by him in any way.

He squeezed his eyes shut against the barrage of images that thought sparked. They did not have time.

His own mind had stuttered while he was taking stock of Harry’s appearance so he had missed that Harry was talking to him. Usually, in their heightened arousal, he was the one to blabber on. Harry insisted he liked it but Louis had never believed him until now.

“Please, Lou. I need to feel your hands touching me. Can I suck your cock? Love the taste of you. Cannot get enough of you. Need to feel you inside me. Please.” He was panting heavily as he repeated his litany of phrases designed to kill Louis where they lay. He knew now why Harry loved to hear him speak.

If he let Harry suck his cock he would shoot off right away. That would save them precious time, yes, but there was something else Louis wanted so desperately. Did he dare?

“Want to feel me inside you?” He breathed, letting his hand drift even further under Harry’s voluminous skirt. Harry gasped and held his breath, waiting for Louis to continue. Louis pushed the silk layer, and then the single petticoat, up and over Harry’s flushed cock where it was already hard and dripping against his abdomen.

He dragged a finger through the wetness before trailing it down past Harry’s balls, just barely letting it pass over the smooth pink skin of his hole.

Harry cried out as softly as he could, but it still was not all that quiet. Louis brought their lips together once again to try and muffle him.

The lavender oil he had stolen from Jade’s washing maids a few weeks ago was within reach if he stretched. He lifted off Harry to do just that, attempting to ignore his sounds of protest.

“None of that, this will help, I swear to you,” he hushed. Harry rolled his lips together and nodded. With his coloring, both artifical and his natural blush, he looked for all the world like the rumpled innocent he would play every night hence.

As quickly as he could, Louis uncapped the bottle and rubbed a few drops of it on the ends of his fingers. When they returned to meet bare skin, Harry’s body tensed before his muscles melted into the down and straw mattress underneath him.

Louis breached his hole with a finger up to the first knuckle, and promptly died. Harry was so tight around him that he could barely breathe. God, what would it be like to have his cock inside of him. He had messed around with a few girls of the troupe when he was young, and he had heard stories from some of the older gentleman around the fire late at night after his mother had gone to bed, but nothing had prepared him for Harry’s perfect heat.

He opened Harry up on one finger and then two, and Harry took it perfectly. Louis could feel the oil they were using begin to drip a bit, but he definitely did not want Harry to take his dress off. Not only was it difficult to get back on, it was _unbelievably_ , and surprisingly, arousing.

When he extracted his finger, Harry pouted as his hole clenched around nothing. Louis had to breathe deeply a few times to get himself back under control. He realised then that he had never undone his own breeches.

“Flip over, darling, you’re getting messy, don’t want to ruin your dress.” That seemed to have the same effect as his hint earlier that someone might catch them. Harry began reaching his hands out for Louis to bring him back into his body, and when he couldn’t he began writhing on the thin pallet. Nevertheless, he did manage to gather up his skirts out from under his knees and flip himself over. He adjusted himself so that his petticoat was directly under where his cock bobbed in the open air, silk safe from harm.

The sight of Harry's small rounded arse, ready and waiting for him, was incredibly erotic, and Louis quickly undid the laces of his own breeches; he had not even thought about what he was doing to his own costume. Jade was most certainly going to murder them.

After he had freed his cock, he quickly brought his fingers back to Harry’s hole, thrusting a few times to make sure he was still open and ready. Harry’s hair was still gathered in a loose plait from being in his head piece and veil, but it was quickly coming undone. Now that Louis had both hands free, he kept teasing Harry’s hole with one while the other untied the ribbons in his hair let it flow down his back so that Louis could run his fingers through it.

“Lou,” Harry moaned, voice completely broken, “Please. Ready for you. Want to feel you.” Always ready to give Harry anything he wanted, Louis coated his own hardened length with a few more droplets of oil. The slide from the oil mixed with his own precome felt incredible, so he made sure to grip himself around the base as he guided himself into Harry, or everything would have been over far too soon.

“Move when you’re ready darling,” Louis said through gritted teeth as he bottomed out. He brought his hand away from his cock and took Harry’s hips firmly in hand. Harry felt better than he had imagined, well beyond his wildest dreams. The wet heat was like nothing he had ever felt before.

Harry breathed deeply relaxing his muscles, letting his walls adjust to having Louis inside him intimately. Louis stayed tensed and ready, waiting for Harry to start moving, and eventually he did, pushing his hips back a fraction, testing the motion. As he gained confidence, he began to move with more vigour.

Louis gripped his hips harder and now that he was sure Harry was comfortable, began meeting his thrusts halfway.

On one particularly deep thrust, Harry cried out and lost the tension in his neck, letting his head drop down. “There! Oh, God, Louis. Right there. Don’t stop!”

Louis concentrated on maintaining the angle and all it took was a few more thrusts before Harry brought one of his hands to circle his own cock. Louis felt Harry go rigid from the inside out before he cried out once again, spilling over his hand. He could not watch as it was happening, but he felt it, which was more than enough. He buried himself deep inside Harry before letting himself go, tumbling over the edge.

His release was still ringing in his ears as he carefully pulled his sensitive cock out of Harry. Louis watched as come dripped out of him, and the possessive urge flared deep within him again. _Mine mine mine_ , Louis thought as he reached for a cloth to clean him.

Harry had collapsed onto his front hopefully soiling the petticoat instead of his lovely dress, and did not even twitch when the rough cloth dragged across his tender skin.

Louis began to feel overwhelmed with emotion. Harry was his. His to love, his to touch. And Harry loved him, he was Harry's equally in return. Merely a fortnight prior, he thought he was going to have to hide his feelings for his best friend forever.

“I love you, Harry,” He forced out, voice heavy with unshed tears.

Harry twisted his torso a bit, lifting his shoulders off the bed roll so that he could look Louis in the eye. He studied Louis’ face for a moment before nodding, and turning over onto his back, reaching up to pull Louis into his arms.

“I love you, too,” he replied, as he adjusted their bodies. They were experts at sleeping and contorting themselves on such a small pallet now.

“I want to tell everyone about us. I want you to make my carriage ours, and travel with me, and stay by my side. It’s awful that you have to be over there.” Disdain laced his voice as he spoke about Harry's rig.

Harry burst out laughing, “You mean in my own carriage? The one parked right next to yours, that is probably gathering dust on the inside for all the time I have spent in it lately?” He ran his fingers through Louis’ fringe in a comforting gesture.

“Lou, we’re performing this show tonight, then in a few days there is another gathering of the whole troupe. Would you like to say something then? Or just start a rumour and let it spread like wildfire?”

The answer was clear; “Start a rumour, definitely. Niall and Liam deserve to be messed with.” He placed a kiss on the end of Harry’s nose before beginning the process of straightening themselves up so they could rejoin the rest of the troupe. They had probably started a rumour anyway, solely by how long they must have been missing.

 

***

 

_**Epilogue** _

Niall watched as Harry emerged from the back of Louis’ carriage, stepping even less gracefully down the steps than normal. His headpiece was askew, and his skirt terribly rumpled. Rouge extended from his lips to almost halfway up his cheekbone.

Really? They could not have waited?

He rolled his eyes, but let a smile take over his face.

His two best friends thought they were being sneaky. Neither one of them considered that they had rather abruptly stopped endlessly waxing poetic about each other to Niall. Either they had both been magically cured of their infatuations overnight, or they had finally confessed their feelings for each other.

Considering he knew for certain that Harry had not undone his bedroll since the night they were sent away from camp, Niall guessed it was the latter.

That day when he had coordinated the packing of Louis’ carriage, he stuck a note in Harry’s bedroll that read:

_Dear Harry,_

_If you’re seeing this note, stop. Do not squander this opportunity. Talk to Louis. Tell him about your feelings, I swear to you he feels the same._

_Upon your return to camp, if you have not told him, you must say out loud: “I am an idiot who will die alone and Niall is superior to everyone else.”_

_Good Luck,_

_Niall_

It was the kind of note one would notice, and at the very least say something about.

Three nights after they returned Niall caught Harry sneaking into Louis carriage after everyone else had gone to bed. After making sure Harry was safely bedded down with Louis for the night, Niall had stolen his bedroll, note firmly tucked inside.

Harry never came looking for it.


End file.
